Chapter 11: The root stirs

Words : 1042 Updated : Sep 16th, 2025

Chapter 11 - The root stirsThe silence was the first thing I noticed. Not the wind, not the rustling of leaves, not the bubbling hiss of caustic spores drifting from the fungal nests to the west. Silence. But it was not deep and suffocating anymore. Rather, within it, I felt a strange serenity. Like the moment before a storm, where the world takes a breath before screaming. I stood at the heart of my fledgling territory; 7.8 square meters of stubborn defiance carved into the skin of a merciless world. And for the first time since my rebirth, my mind was whole. I had remembered. But not everything. Yes, the fragmented memories helped me make the necessary connections to understand everything but no, the memories of my past life was still fogged, fragmented, like old glass cracked and water-streaked, but I remembered enough. The Genesis Protocols. The trial. The bitter moment of descent. The taste of ozone and ash as the skies split. I remembered how Earth died. And I remembered why I was here. It was probably a few hours already since the fragmented memories flashed in my head after warding off the new threat to my territory, and yet, the impact, the significance lingered. And what time brought was the space to think and contemplate; soliloquize. I am not some random spawn. I am not just a plant draped in moss and thorns, writhing through instinct. I am not some helpless, hopeless plant, at least not anymore. I was sent here. Chosen. Forced. Whatever the truth, I am here, and this world... this Echoterra... is a cage. I clenched my thorned fist. 'This isn't salvation. This is a goddamn crucible'. This is not my first time thinking that, but still, I thought of it again. The weight of the truth still crashed into me like tectonic plates grinding. The end of the world wasn't an event, it was a process, a gradual process that I was now a part of. I was inside it now, grinding along the gears of something ancient and inhuman. From the beginning, I always felt like a stranger in this world and now the feeling was even more prominent. I felt rejected, alone, forlorn. Yes, I still felt it but an emotion helped me cope better now. That emotion? It was a visit from a familiar friend, spite. Spite surged in me like fire through my roots. I will survive this. Not because I believe in the Genesis Protocols, not because I want to save humanity, but simply because I refuse to die like a dog. Because I will return. ... My senses stretched outward, new and honed. The territorial instincts hummed beneath my consciousness, clear now, crystalline in purpose. Warn. Lure. Engage. Sёarᴄh the NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. They weren't just tools. They were extensions of my will, natural laws repurposed for me to bend. The switch from a human to a plant was not easy to cope with. But in just the past few hours, after the clarity that the revelations and my fragmented memories brought, I found it easier to adapt. The first step was learning to stop thinking as a human. To thrive as a plant, I was learning to think like a plant. And once I learned, everything became so much easier. Something stirred to the east. A slithering plant; not large, but fast. A carnivorous creeper with a snapping mouth and spined leaves that thirsted for chlorophyll. I could feel its presence tiptoeing the edge of my domain. I didn't move. I warned; I told of my presence. A pulse, invisible to most, flared outward from my core. It wasn't sound, wasn't light, just an assertion of presence, of authority. That I was here. That I ruled here. And the creeper stopped. I felt it, its hesitation. Its fear. It's primitive recognition that to enter my territory would be to die. It slithered away. A laugh escaped me; quiet, almost bitter. 'That's right,' I whispered in my mind. 'Run'. Not because I wanted peace. But because I would decide when blood is spilled, and I would spill it on my terms. That is the convenience of power. ... Hours later... A minor beast clawed its way into my domain. Six-legged, carapaced; a scavenger plant-animal hybrid. This time, I chose to engage. The thorned vines at the edges of my territory responded without hesitation; piercing, dragging, feeding. Another kill. Another piece. Another evolutionary fragment. My body shuddered. Not in pain, but in growth. A hint of something ancient stirred in my mind; an instinct not yet mine. Eyes... many eyes... watching through leaves... no, through insects? It vanished before I could grasp it. But it had left a mark. I think I understood what was happening. The next evolution was coming. I could feel it scratching at the horizon of my being. ... I sat near the center of my domain, silent again, tendrils of sensory vines splayed out like antennae; thinking, planning. There was more. I knew it now. Territory was survival, but also power. And that power came with milestones. My guess is that at 50 square meters, I would cross a threshold and something else waited there. I had felt it. A flicker in the distance. Not flora, not beast, not like me. Someone else was here. A survivor. A potential ally. Or a rival. Either way, they'd become part of my story. My kingdom. But first, I needed to survive. Fight, hunt, feed, and grow. Not just myself, but also to grow my territory. My roots itched for conquest. The world had tried to erase me, tossing me into this verdant hell like discarded meat. But I would become something more. A sovereign of thorns. A king. And when I finally return to Earth, I'll show them what it means to crawl back from hell with a crown on your skull and blood in your wake. Let the world burn. I will bloom from its ashes. Before doing anything else though, a sudden thought crossed my mind. 'How long have I been in this world?'

Chapter 11: The root stirs

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